


I Look Into Your Eyes And The World Feels Anew

by PrefectMoony



Series: Show Me A Hero And I'll Write You A Tragedy [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Post-Tartarus (Percy Jackson), Some angst, but they're healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 01:56:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrefectMoony/pseuds/PrefectMoony
Summary: Percy looks at her, his girlfriend, his wise girl, the love of his life, and he sees everything he wishes he could be. He sees her whole and strong and unshakable. Percy looks at himself and he sees the jagged bits that can’t be sanded down no matter how hard he tries. He sees the boy who would’ve let Olympus fall if it didn’t mean his friends and family fell right along with it. He sees the boy who would’ve choked that goddess with her own poison if Annabeth wasn’t there, in the pit of literal hell, to bring him back to center— as if she still clutched the string to his humanity that he depended on as a sacrifice to Achilles’ curse. Percy sees the boy who’s still riddled with nightmares of the darkness within him— the nightmares he knows on some sort of transcendent level that Luke was riddled with once upon a time— Percy sees a face of sharp angles and bright eyes and dark hallows, and he can’t find the boy he once was.





	I Look Into Your Eyes And The World Feels Anew

.-

Sometimes Percy looks at her, his girlfriend, his wise girl, the love of his life, and he can’t help but think of light. He looks at her cascading curls that look like they’ve been strung by gold, and her long legs tanned by hours of adventuring outdoors at camp, and the unbridled genius teeming in the almost molten gray of her eyes, and he thinks that she could put Apollo to shame because Annabeth is the sun personified.

He runs a hand through the streak of gray in her hair, the one matching his own. On her it looks like a badge of honor. On her it looks like a proof of her resilience and strength and her insistence on standing tall no matter what life throws her way. On her it’s everything Percy wishes he was. 

Percy looks at her, his girlfriend, his wise girl, the love of his life, and he sees everything he wishes he could be. He sees her whole and strong and unshakable. Percy looks at himself and he sees the jagged bits that can’t be sanded down no matter how hard he tries. He sees the boy who would’ve let Olympus fall if it didn’t mean his friends and family fell right along with it. He sees the boy who would’ve choked that goddess with her own poison if Annabeth wasn’t there, in the pit of literal hell, to bring him back to center— as if she still clutched the string to his humanity that he depended on as a sacrifice to Achilles’ curse. Percy sees the boy who’s still riddled with nightmares of the darkness within him— the nightmares he knows on some sort of transcendent level that Luke was riddled with once upon a time— Percy sees a face of sharp angles and bright eyes and dark hallows, and he can’t find the boy he once was.

.-

It’s late autumn when Percy drives up to MIT so to bring Annabeth back home for the fall break, something warm coiling in his stomach at the thought of how her home will always be with him— that they’ve built something permanent within one another. Rachel would’ve come along if it weren’t for her mother’s insistence that she attends some posh party for which ever charity she’s heading as the wife of the Dare family heir. And Grover’s in Brazil, leading the efforts to protect the Amazon. When he had invited Nico to join him, the younger demigod had declined, saying that he was still trying to get acclimated to just staying at one place for longer than a few weeks, Percy only nodded, pretended that he didn’t see the glint in Nico’s chestnut eyes that he’s always regarded Percy with, the glint that Percy now recognizes as wanting. He thinks he would feel bad if he could feel much of anything nowadays.

It’s a familiar path from the parking lot to Annabeth’s dormitory, one he’s walked dozens of times before. What isn’t familiar is when he reaches the lounge that they agreed to meet at and he sees Annabeth the way she was the summer before the battle of Olympus. Back when there was still hope coloring their laughter and a buoyancy to their hearts. Back when he had invited her to the fireworks show at camp and she had flushed with pure excitement before readily agreeing. Annabeth was glowing and open and was dissolved into peals of laughter that Percy has always considered the most splendid sound in the galaxy— light and fluttering and uninhibited.

His heart aches with the thought that he— his disappearance, his power that attracted the forces of the heavens and hell to him like moss to a flame, his inability to shake off the pain that only a child of the Big Three could acquire in one life time— had been the one to make her splendor doll for so long.

Percy cuts his gaze over to the three other students that are gathered around her, a pair of girls holding hands and a boy that’s looking at Annabeth like she’s carrying the sky on her shoulders— which yeah, she’s done that before. He’s handsome in the crisp, future politician kind of way, like Jason had been— but no, he’s painfully mortal. This boy, with the same jawline and bright blue eyes as Jason, won’t end up in an early grave because of a stab to his back. This boy, with mussed hair and big smiles, is destined for a life of peace and normality. A life Percy suddenly, acutely, knows will never be in his path. NO matter how greatly he fights against it, he’s destined to be the play thing of the gods. A warrior for the heavens, carved by steel and doused by the ocean’s churning waves— unrelenting and impervious and completely apathetic to whatever is in its path.

Zoos and the others, they will always find themselves in some sort of trouble and Percy will always be their saver, not of his own volition but simply because it’s written in stardust. His providence is to be the hero of Olympus, just like Hestia had proclaimed him.

That is Percy’s fate, but it doesn’t have to be Annabeth’s. After all, Annabeth, her being the love of his life withstanding, is still only the daughter of Athena. She is remarkable, and wonderful and strong in so many ways, but she isn’t like him— She isn’t a child of the Big Three, she doesn’t need to go through those same experiences. She can find herself a mortal boy, she can. She can find a kid like this boy who painfully reminds Percy of Jason, and she could wed him and have children and live a fulfilled life as some acclaimed architect or maybe go into the law, or even medicine. She can do all that and Percy can just be a faint memory of her past, a boy with big eyes and big ambition and big powers . A boy feted for his name and bound to either join the gods in the heavens or be killed to save them.

If Percy were strong enough he could let her go, but he’s not, so he won’t.

Annabeth turns her head, only slightly— as if attuned to his very presence.

Her entire being goes electric and something inside of Percy feels softer, less broken. 

He doesn’t want to think of what the future will bring. For now, right here, he’s got her. He has Annabeth and she loves him in ways he can’t even fathom, and that’s enough. That’s so much that it makes Percy’s knees go weak.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so so much for reading this!!! Really and truly it would mean the galaxy and stars to me if you left a comment below letting me know what you thought of my far to angsty writings about Percy<3 <3 <3 
> 
> You can reblog this on [Tumblr](http://LiterallyLen.tumblr.com) if you prefer <3 <3 I'm excepting prompts rn<3 
> 
> I hope to hear from you soon!!!  
With Love!!!  
~Len


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